


Ways to talk (to your hyung)

by berryboys



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Humiliation, Hyung Kink, Intercrural Sex, Lingerie, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 12:16:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16492439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berryboys/pseuds/berryboys
Summary: If Jungwoo is Rose, then he belongs to Jaehyun tonight. It was Jack and Rose, not Rose and the fucking whole company.





	Ways to talk (to your hyung)

**Author's Note:**

> proper penetration is too mainstream

Unsurprisingly, it’s Ten’s idea.

“You would look good as a girl,” he says, twirling Jungwoo’s hair in his fingers. They’re sitting against the mirror of the practice room, watching other members go over their routines. Jaehyun has just sat down next to them, and as soon as Ten opens his mouth, he pretends that he’s minding his own business. He isn’t, but it’s dangerous to involve himself in this conversation. “I can do your make-up.”

During the last month, Ten has gone on a campaign to make every member wear a dress for Halloween. It’s not the first time he sets his sight on such a mission, thus most of the guys have ignored him. He hasn’t even convinced Taeil, who was enthusiastic about it last year, because _my own pictures are still haunting me in my nightmares_. Fans are ruthless, Jaehyun admits it. You wear a dress once and they still bring it up five, ten or twenty years later. Donghyuck can vouch for that as well.

But Ten loves it. And Jungwoo, who has become pretty docile since he debuted, is an easy, naïve target. He ignores the consequences of giving the fans what they want – an excuse to laugh at them – and receives Ten’s proposal with glassy, curious eyes. It’s the right moment for Jaehyun to cut in and save Jungwoo from this plan, but when he glances at him, he’s welcomed by the rosy blush on Jungwoo’s cheeks.

“What kind of girl?” Jungwoo asks, interested.

“A pretty girl,” Ten replies, like it’s obvious. He stares at Jungwoo as though he’s his next masterpiece, and then, much to Jaehyun’s  disgrace, he catches him stealing glances at Jungwoo. A smirk expands on his lips, and Ten straightens up, like a wolf hearing the footsteps of his prey. “What kind of girls do you like, Jaehyun?”

Putting on his coldest expression, Jaehyun recoils. Ignoring Ten isn’t a bad strategy per se, but ignoring Jungwoo… is a difficult task. Jungwoo turns to look at him, his head tilted to the side, and his eyes seem to ask, _what kind of girls do you like, Jaehyun?_ Like it matters. Like Jungwoo will be the sort of girl that Jaehyun chooses.

Jaehyun considers himself a person with a tight self-control. Until today. Something akin to panic invades every one of his brain cells, and with a low, offended voice, he grumbles, “I don’t like girls.”

It’s worth it just to witness the way Ten reacts, jaw hanging low.

Jaehyun has dated girls. Jaehyun has never said something like this out loud, and even Ten, with his prying mouth and his smart observations, has never doubted that Jaehyun was nothing but straight. Discretion is the key, because other members know that Jaehyun swings both ways – he and Mark have shared one too many handjobs during _Regular_ promotions, and Jaehyun made Yukhei go on his knees once.

“Well,” Ten mutters, voice hoarse. He throws a desperate look at Jungwoo, as to ask for help, but Jungwoo remains calm and unbothered. Clearing his throat, Ten continues, “That was unexpected. I would have never thought.”

Jaehyun shrugs, trying to make himself smaller. The way Jungwoo stares at him could drill through him, and it induces a small shiver that travels up Jaehyun’s spine. Looking away, Jaehyun starts counting the seconds until Dream’s song finishes and he can go back to dancing, far away from Ten and Jungwoo and their sinful ideas.

Jungwoo doesn’t say anything, and by the time he loses interest in Jaehyun’s face, Jaehyun can clearly see that his lips have stretched into a satisfied smile.

 

 

 

 

Jaehyun reckons that once upon a time, Jungwoo felt quite intimidating to him.

Trainee days are different for everyone. All of them are different persons while they fight for a spot, for a future, but Jaehyun hasn’t changed much since he debuted. Jungwoo is another whole story. When he debuted, he wasn’t the same person that Jaehyun remembered from two years ago, and although some boys had warned him – Jaemin and Jeno had been very insistent about how _hyung_ was much nicer now – Jaehyun was unable to imagine the extent of it.

It was a matter of tension, of freeing himself from the uncertainty of his future. It was said that once you were introduced formally as a rookie, you were set to debut. Or maybe sharing his daily life with Yukhei, all childish and honest, had softened him.

Whatever it was, Jaehyun hadn’t been ready for it. Jungwoo used to be tougher, more reserved. However, when Jaehyun reunited with him, Jungwoo had fuller cheeks and a smile that could make any man in the universe melt – and he laughed softly, talked softly. It reminded Jaehyun of members whispering to each other in the middle of the night not to wake up the rest. It had made Jaehyun’s head spin, to think about Jungwoo that way.

The routine after debuting brings a change in lifestyle. When darkness falls, muffled moans and silenced pleas in the dorm aren’t foreign to them – it’s the old tale about a bunch of lonely boys sharing the same space. Jaehyun has never been especially interested in other members, but Jungwoo, this new Jungwoo, makes Jaehyun wonder how he would sound under him, how he would drown his crying and how he would face other members the next morning. As a new addition, Jungwoo is untouched, as far as Jaehyun knows. Despite his change in attitude, everyone remembers the old Jungwoo, and no one wants to be the first to take the risk.

Jaehyun has always been a bit too bold for his own good.

When there are three weeks left for Halloween, Youngho asks him, “Have you ever watched Titanic?”

It’s an odd question at best, but they’re picking up their things after the radio show, and Jaehyun’s mind isn’t in its smartest state. “Are you serious? Who hasn’t watched Titanic?” he laughs. But as he swings his bag over his shoulder, he freezes, realizing what’s going on. Youngho gives him a sheepish smile, and Jaehyun squints at him. “Did you talk to Ten?”

Jaehyun isn’t expecting Youngho’s betrayal. Ten has sent many of his soldiers to convince Jaehyun of how great it would be if Jungwoo and he went to the party as a couple. Sending Sicheng was a low kick, because he’s a master at manipulating people with his puppy eyes, but Renjun was even worse – the kids know his weak points better, much to Jaehyun’s surprise.

“Come on, it will be fun,” Youngho assures him, nudging him. Jaehyun glowers at him and his fist, not forgiving, and Youngho sighs. “We already ordered the costumes, dude. Don’t be like that.”

 

 

 

 

Peer pressure is the ulcer of society.

Doyoung stares at him over his round glasses, stares at him like Jaehyun is an insect that he can step on. “Are you a coward, Yoonoh?”

All in all, Jaehyun shouldn’t have resorted to Doyoung, ruthless, sincere Doyoung. But the dorm was empty, and Jaehyun was bored and worried, and pretty much angry at every member that has been actively participating in the _Jack and Rose_ mission.

Jaehyun lifts his index finger at Doyoung, threatening, but retracts as Doyoung sends him a look that could kill any living creature. “Don’t use that name on me,” Jaehyun murmurs, losing strength as he speaks.

“You’re a coward,” Doyoung repeats, unbothered. He extends his legs on the bed, nearly kicking Jaehyun off the edge, and Jaehyun stands up, understanding that Doyoung is indeed kicking him out. “It’s Jungwoo’s first Halloween as a member. And he has been receiving a lot of criticism, so the last thing you could do for him is to indulge a harmless idea.”

Jaehyun loses the damn fight right then.

 

 

 

 

Jack’s costume fits Jaehyun’s image, that much he can recognize. Youngho lays the clothes on his bed, checking out Jaehyun’s reaction, and waits for the magical words. The white shirt is pretty classical, and Jaehyun feels confident in that, and the suspenders will give him the touch he needs – it’s not very Halloween-like, but the only one with a proper costume is Chenle anyway.

Jungwoo is leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and a bored expression on his semblance, as though this is just another part of their job. It is, but Jaehyun saw the way Jungwoo’s eyes lighted up when he saw his dress for the first time.

Overwhelmed, Jaehyun runs a hand through his hair. “Okay,” he says, talking to himself. He has been guilt tripped into this, and though Jaehyun should run away from such emotional blackmail, he knows that he will feel bad if he refuses. Which is funny, considering Jungwoo is currently examining his nails like he doesn’t give any fuck about Jaehyun. “I still have a bad feeling about this.”

“What’s the problem?” Jungwoo scoffs before Youngho can soothe Jaehyun again. Wary, Jaehyun glances at him, and Jungwoo gives him a once over. “You’re going to be Jack. Handsome, mischievous, straight, the wet dream of three generations. Nothing dangerous there.”

The dangerous part isn’t Jack, of course, that doesn’t worry Jaehyun. It’s Rose. Because Jungwoo himself, without a costume, is already dangerous, and Jaehyun doesn’t want to imagine what will happen when they have to get in character.

Jaehyun bites his tongue not to spill what he really thinks. “Why would you want to be Rose?” he asks Jungwoo, confused. Dressing up as a girl brings the spotlight to them, for better and for worse, and Jaehyun doesn’t understand why Jungwoo is doing this to himself. To both of them. “And why do you want me to be Jack?”

The question amuses Jungwoo, his face contorting into one of his adorable, sickly sweet smiles. Feeling out of place, Youngho fakes a cough, and Jaehyun realizes that he isn’t the only one that is disconcerted by Jungwoo’s laughter.

“Because you don’t like girls,” Jungwoo replies, a tone that challenges Jaehyun to contradict him. Jungwoo doesn’t forget. Jungwoo isn’t going to let this go. Jungwoo receives information and unleashes it when it’s useful. Damned be the moment Jaehyun opened his big mouth, the moment he decided to sit down next to Ten and Jungwoo in the practice room. “I can’t trust the rest to keep their hands to themselves, but I can trust you, can’t I?”

And once again, Jaehyun makes the mistake of not thinking before talking. “You can,” he defies him, and Jungwoo keeps smiling at him, like he will make Jaehyun crumble down if he insists. 

But not even Jaehyun trusts himself.

 

 

 

 

Jungwoo had a good reason to accuse his members of being too handsy. They’re used to wearing pants, and not only that, but also outfits that cover them up completely. When one of them sports something mildly revealing, everyone goes crazy, pulling at the edges and slipping hands into places that are supposed to be intimate. It’s casual, a game of touches, and Jaehyun participates pretty often. Not with Jungwoo, however. No one dares with Jungwoo.

The preparations for the party take place in the dorms. Some of them need special make-up, and they get sent away, but most of them stay behind. Jaehyun is both frustrated and humored at the fact that Youngho has the nerve to use one of his pajamas and claim that he’s Tony the Tiger, while he made sure to put Jaehyun through this hell – following Ten’s idea, buying the costumes for them, convincing Jaehyun.

As promised, Ten does Jungwoo’s make-up and hair. At first, Jaehyun simply lies on his bed while Ten climbs up on Jungwoo’s lap, all his make-up items spread over the covers. Jungwoo is wearing the dress, and Jaehyun has looked at him a couple of times just to discover that yes, he can put up with this. The dress isn’t pretty, and Jungwoo is lucky that he can compensate because he has that face, that waist, those legs-. _The dress isn’t pretty_. But Jungwoo is. Still, Jaehyun sees him almost every day, so that’s not new.

“You should use extensions,” Ten is saying when Jaehyun manages to snap back to reality. “Not a wig.”

“Why does it matter?” Jaehyun cuts in. “Long hair is long hair.”

The look Ten shoots him shuts Jaehyun up. He crawls off Jungwoo, spins on his heels and darts out in search of the extensions. Jaehyun’s eyes fall on Jungwoo’s face, and finally, he regrets ceding. It’s the first time Jaehyun and Jungwoo are alone as Jack and Rose, and Jungwoo blinks at him as though he doesn’t understand why Jaehyun is so interested in him out of the blue.

“What?” Jungwoo says, sweet.

Jaehyun shakes his head, dismissing the question. The dress doesn’t affect Jaehyun, but the make-up does: Jungwoo’s pretty pink lips is all he can focus on, on his rosy cheeks accentuating Jungwoo’s natural blush, on those long, hypnotizing eyelashes. Jaehyun can’t breathe, and that’s an understatement, for even the suspenders are asphyxiating him now.

“For not liking girls, you surely look nervous,” Jungwoo points out, eyebrows raised.

Jaehyun _is_ nervous. And damn, he does like girls, but he will take Jungwoo before anyone, anytime, anywhere.

 

 

 

 

“Grab me like you mean it,” Jungwoo orders him.

Jaehyun has no idea of why Jungwoo thinks he’s going to chicken out in front of the cameras, but he’s right. By the time they step out of the car, Jaehyun’s hands are sweating out of nervousness. He’s anxious about everything, about the fuss fans are going to make, about Jungwoo’s grip on his leg during the whole car ride, about Jungwoo gathering the attention from other members – the overly friendly slaps on his butt and the unjustified praise, plus a few comments over how he should wear dresses and skirts more often.

Jungwoo and he have talked about which poses they are going for, but when it’s their turn, Jaehyun is so nervous that Jungwoo has to lead his movements. Jack should hold Rose by her waist, but Jaehyun’s hands find their way to Jungwoo’s hips instead, and he applies more force than intended. Jungwoo isn’t free from guilt: he presses himself back against Jaehyun, on purpose, and draws his most neutral smile. If there’s a hell, Jaehyun realizes, this is it. The dress is thin and so are his pants, and yet Jungwoo has no shame as he pushes back, enjoying every second of the torture.

Jaehyun checks the pictures right away, scrolling down his phone, and curses at Jungwoo. Anyone might think that Jaehyun is attempting to be sexy, serious, but Jaehyun observes himself and realizes that he wasn’t trying to shove Jungwoo away from his crotch. He was holding him closer. The dilemma is reflected on his face, engraved forever in their fans’ phones and social media.

As expected, there is furor around their couple costumes. Seniors laugh at them, take pictures, repeat a thousand times that Jungwoo is the prettiest girl they have ever seen. Jaehyun burns out fast, and a part of him wishes he could hide Jungwoo away with him, to teach him that he can’t play with Jaehyun so cruelly and then take compliments from anyone that wants to put their hands on him for two seconds. There are rules, right? If Jungwoo is Rose, then he belongs to Jaehyun tonight. It was Jack and Rose, not Rose and the fucking whole company.

Even if Jaehyun wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to escape Jungwoo. They have to sit together for the dinner, but at least they’re surrounded by other members and Jaehyun doesn’t have to drown himself in Jungwoo’s presence. Though now that he notices it, he sprayed himself with a new perfume – a female perfume, he’s certain. And Jaehyun can’t help but frown at him for a few minutes, indignant at the fact that Jungwoo has gone this far just to make fun of him. Because this is what this is, right? Jungwoo playing a game that Jaehyun doesn’t understand, but that it destroys him bit by bit.

Jungwoo doesn’t allow him to feel safe. In the middle of the dinner, he decides that he wants Jaehyun back, and slips a hand under the table. That hand, that doomed hand lands on Jaehyun’s thigh; then, slowly, travels to the inner part of his leg. Jaehyun chokes on his drink, and in an attempt to pretend that he’s not dying, he winds up with his eyes full of tears. He manages not to alert anyone else, but Jungwoo stares at him with the most malicious smile that a human can draw.

“Why can’t you look me in the eye?” he asks Jaehyun, laughter in his tone, fake niceness in his face.

Jaehyun tightens his jaw, frustrated, and holds back the urge of slapping Jungwoo’s hand away. He’s testing him, and if Jaehyun fights back, the truth will be out and he will embarrass himself.

“I can look you in the eye just fine,” Jaehyun lies, lifting his chin to glance at Jungwoo.

“How are you so uncomfortable?” Jungwoo doesn’t believe him. He plays with his own hair, the extensions resting on his collarbones, and Jaehyun irremediably follows the movement like enchanted. “You’re not on a date with a girl, okay? Relax.”

“It’s not because you’re dressing up as a girl,” Jaehyun confesses then, too distracted by Jungwoo’s collarbone to realize what he’s saying. “But because it’s you.”

That catches Jungwoo off guard, judging how he’s petrified for three seconds. Not sure if Jaehyun is joking, Jungwoo examines his face, but there’s nothing there except blatant shame for what’s happening.

“Because it’s me?” Jungwoo insists, asking for a confirmation. The ring of his voice hints that he’s about to mock Jaehyun, and Jaehyun prepares himself for it; the humiliation never arrives. Jungwoo bends sideways to approach him, his lips caressing his ear, and whispers, “Because you want to take the lipstick off my lips? Mess up my mascara? Tear the dress apart?”

Jaehyun’s whole world stops turning. The room is frozen in time, and so is Jaehyun, telling himself that this is a dream, that he’s in his bed and will wake up anytime soon, because Jungwoo would never-

“How do you want to fuck me, Jaehyun?” Jungwoo continues, and at last his voice changes, his soft edges hardening to give space to something more sensual. “With or without the dress?”

Jaehyun’s vision is blurry, hazed by the amount of thoughts crossing his mind. He wants the dress on, the dress off, he wants _anything_. He wants Jungwoo to close his mouth and not torture him in the middle of a party filled with their seniors and people that they depend on in their daily lives.

Jaehyun was wrong: Jungwoo hasn’t changed a bit. He’s the same boy but with a new gained power, the power of concealing his real intentions behind his cute face and his innocent voice. Why did Jaehyun fall for it? He _knew_ Jungwoo. They spent years training together.

“Holy shit, Jungwoo, shut up,” Jaehyun spits at him, hand clawing at Jungwoo’s fingers so that he releases his thigh. Jungwoo does, but he laughs, a clear warning that he will be back. But the moment of peace allows Jaehyun to breathe, to think with his head and not his dick, and that’s when he decides to pull the only weapon he has. “That’s not a way to talk to your hyu-”

“My hyung?” Jungwoo interrupts him, half diverted and half amazed. Jaehyun never forces him to use honorifics, and the fact that he’s resorting to them is a sign of weakness. “That card doesn’t work if you’re looking at my lips, _hyung_.”

Jaehyun doesn’t need Jungwoo’s hand on his dick to feel that. His body responds, and it’s too late for Jaehyun to prevent this; the blood is travelling far from his brain, far from the place that saves Jaehyun from doing the only thing he mustn’t do.

Gathering the little oxygen he has left, Jaehyun grunts, “Jungwoo, I’m warning you for the last time-”

“I’m wearing something special underneath.”

“What?” Jaehyun feels his mouth go dry. “Fuck, what?”

Jungwoo rests his chin on the palm of his hand, staring up at him as though they were talking about the weather. “You want to know that badly?”

Saying that Jungwoo has him wrapped around his finger would be an understatement. And this is an unfamiliar sensation for Jaehyun, because he always has everything under control, measured, analyzed. Ceding the control isn’t in his plans, yet Jungwoo is hauling him by the hair so that he loses his mind, and it’s working.

This is insane. Jungwoo is insane.

“Don’t,” Jaehyun pleads with him, aware of what’s bubbling up in Jungwoo’s head.

Jungwoo doesn’t listen to him.  He stands up, being careful of not tripping on his dress, and dedicates Jaehyun a wide smile that makes him dizzy. Ten asks him where he’s going, to which he lies assuring that he needs to use the bathroom, and then he walks away.

Jaehyun feels the pull right away. And he’d like to say that it’s emotional, that it’s because Jungwoo has manipulated him and planted intrusive images in his head, but Jaehyun isn’t a liar. It’s simpler than that: he can’t sit around this table with a growing boner inside his loose pants. Not when he can have Jungwoo however he wants, to ease up the tension built during the last month. Of course, he can resort to other members just to spite Jungwoo, but his desire wins over any possible schemes of vengeance.

Jaehyun excuses himself and ventures into a trip to search for Jungwoo. He isn’t in the bathroom, needless to say, because it would be too obvious. Following a hunch, Jaehyun goes upstairs, right towards the practice room and there, standing by the door, is Jungwoo. It could be funny if Jaehyun hadn’t been previously riled up, because Jungwoo is smiling like this is the most entertaining game they have ever played.

“Were you looking for me?” Jungwoo teases him, jerking the doorknob of the practice room and stepping back. His eyes shine in the bad illuminated hall. “Are you going to save me before the ship sinks?”

“Don’t play, Jungwoo.” Jaehyun inches forward, careful but firm, and Jungwoo backtracks to keep their distance. Behind him, the room is empty. They’re alone. Jaehyun’s heart races. “This isn’t funny.”

“I bet it isn’t,” Jungwoo agrees. But he loves it. He loves what he has done to Jaehyun, eyes travelling down to the bulge in Jaehyun’s pants, tongue darting over his upper lip. “I bet you would fuck me in the hall if I asked.”

Jaehyun would. But Jungwoo must own a bit of sanity, because he dodges Jaehyun when he tries to catch him, not allowing Jaehyun to kiss him in the middle of the hall. Perhaps in the future, Jaehyun will be thankful of not getting caught with his hands under Jungwoo’s dress, but he can’t think about that now. He slams the door of the practice room shut with a kick of his heel, and Jungwoo laughs at his enthusiasm, bathing in what he has provoked.

He stops laughing one second later, when Jaehyun surrounds him and doesn’t let go, his arms around his waist. Jungwoo is tall, but very light, and it’s relatively easy to carry him to one of the smaller, attached rooms of the dance room. He doesn’t oppose resistance, but when Jaehyun corners him, the dim light of the practice room coming through the window, Jungwoo becomes aware that Jaehyun wasn’t joking.

Perhaps Jungwoo thought that Jaehyun wouldn’t go so far, but he was wrong. Jaehyun doesn’t hesitate to grab Jungwoo by the hair – and now he thanks Ten for not choosing a wig, because he can pull Jungwoo’s head back and remove his extensions, Jungwoo’s mouth opening in a mute protest. Jaehyun isn’t sweet, but Jungwoo seems to like that, kisses back with intent and much to Jaehyun’s shock, desperation. If it’s a battle of desperation, however, Jaehyun wins.

Jungwoo moves his hand down over Jaehyun’s stomach and presses against Jaehyun’s hardening dick. A groan escapes Jaehyun’s lips, hips bucking forward to rub himself against Jungwoo’s hand, and Jungwoo smiles in the kiss.

“Don’t break my dress just yet, yeah?” Jungwoo tells him. _Just yet_.

It’s hard not to. The dress is frustrating, but Jaehyun keeps kissing Jungwoo as he pulls up the dress as fast as he can; there’s too much cloth, too much weight, but Jaehyun doesn’t really want to strip him. Jaehyun pulls down his shoulders too, ignoring Jungwoo’s groan and how the dress constricts his movements, sticking his arms to his body. Then Jaehyun stares down at Jungwoo’s legs, and he realizes what Jungwoo meant with something special.

He’s wearing black stockings up to his thighs, and as Jaehyun lifts the dress more, he discovers that they’re held by suspenders, the lacy suspender belt around Jungwoo’s waist. Jaehyun needs a second to calm down, because the view is too much: it’s not only the fact that Jungwoo is wearing lingerie, but that he has chosen exactly what favors him. The stockings are tensed against his thighs, because he might be thin, but as an idol, he has strong thighs from dancing. Jaehyun feels all the logic leaving him, and then he turns Jungwoo around roughly, pushing him against a small table full of papers. Making a mess is the last of Jaehyun’s concerns, but Jungwoo helplessly tries to move the papers away before Jaehyun forces him to bend down over the table.

 This time, Jaehyun catches Jungwoo off guard, hovering over him and kissing his nape. He doesn’t bother to undress himself first, charging against Jungwoo’s panties and obtaining what he’s looking for: Jungwoo’s surrendering groan. It’s not the same to touch Jaehyun’s dick and feeling it pressed against his ass, and the latter is what drives Jungwoo to move his ass back. Jaehyun lets him, and as he watches Jungwoo rut against him like a dog in heat, he takes off his suspenders.

Jaehyun loves his costume: the moment the suspenders are off, his pant slide down without effort, and it takes him one second to push down his underwear as well. He’s more sensitive than he has expected, completely hard and swollen, and when Jungwoo pushes back again, he releases a gasp and holds Jungwoo by the hips so that he doesn’t move. Jungwoo is stubborn on purpose, insists until Jaehyun strengthens his grip, tendons in his arm coming to the surface.

“Lube, baby,” Jaehyun asks.

Jungwoo doesn’t even react at the pet name, but Jaehyun has something prepared to break him. Of course, Jungwoo hands him the lube without missing a beat, and Jaehyun realizes that he has planned this to the point of hiding the lube somewhere in his dress. Jaehyun slicks his palm with lube, observing how Jungwoo makes the effort of giving him a moment, bent down over the table and hands curling around the other edge of the table.

Jaehyun smiles to himself. He really wants to fuck Jungwoo, but he can get his own pleasure without giving any in return – and that’s what Jungwoo has gotten himself into. Jaehyun doesn’t appreciate being riled up, he likes to decide when and where and with who, and Jungwoo has pushed his buttons until those options were destroyed. Jaehyun can’t take decisions when he’s only thinking about thrusting into Jungwoo’s warmth, and Jungwoo is going to pay for it.

The moment Jaehyun slips his hands between Jungwoo’s legs, he tenses up. He has a good reason to do so, other than his touch. Jaehyun bathes the inner part of Jungwoo’s thighs with lube, strokes his dick with it, and then shoves Jungwoo’s head against the table. That’s when Jungwoo predicts his next move, back arching as though that will change Jaehyun’s opinion.

“Aren’t you going to take it off?” he protests, referring to his underwear, and the frightful tone he uses shows that he already knows what the answer will be.

“No,” Jaehyun laughs a raspy laugh. “You don’t deserve it, Jungwoo.”

Though Jungwoo stays put, he whines a helpless, “It’s not fair.”

It’s not, but Jaehyun gets off on that. He’s dying to feel Jungwoo like this, to tease him until he’s begging – because Jungwoo doesn’t beg, and Jaehyun doesn’t give in easily.

“Press your pretty legs together,” Jaehyun whispers to him. Even though his words are sweet, his voice is firm, and Jungwoo follows his instructions. This position makes him look more delicate, his perfect stockings rubbing against each other and his full thighs opposing the right resistance when Jaehyun slides a finger. “Just like that.”

Jaehyun likes it this way. He likes holding Jungwoo down with one hand and guiding his dick with the other. He’s amused when Jungwoo juts his legs closer and closer, like he intends to frustrate Jaehyun. But Jaehyun has slicked him up well, and as he thrusts forward, his dick makes way slowly; Jungwoo’s plan is counterproductive, because Jaehyun’s cock is welcomed by the tightness of his legs, and he can’t help but moan at the feeling.

Aware that he’s more sensitive than usual, Jaehyun starts careful. Jungwoo’s skin is soft, and he’s obedient, complies with Jaehyun’s wishes without hesitation; he might not  have drawn his plan this way, but he still wanted to be the perfect girl for Jaehyun, and Jaehyun carries that piece of power against him. The way his desperation grows with every thrust is obvious, but Jaehyun doesn’t care. He doesn’t mind either if Jungwoo tries to pleasure himself against the surface of the table, because that’s all he’s going to receive. Jaehyun is satisfied with how Jungwoo is getting riled up this way, untouched, just by feeling the brush of Jaehyung’s dick between his thighs.

Jaehyun stretches his stockings and then releases them so that they hit Jungwoo’s skin, he hauls the stocking suspenders and watches how they sink around Jungwoo’s thighs, and Jungwoo moans at every little thing Jaehyun does to him, like that’s going to convince Jaehyun to touch him properly.

But Jaehyun isn’t made of stone, and every time he sinks himself between Jungwoo’s legs, he loses a bit of sanity. Of patience. And then he feels himself speed up, rhythm broken, and Jungwoo moans at the growing pace of Jaehyun hits. It’s not easy to fuck himself with Jungwoo’s thighs this way, because when Jaehyun rams into him, Jungwoo loses balance. So Jaehyun does the only thing that comes to mind: he makes a bundle with Jungwoo’s dress, his garter belt, and the top of the dress. It barely fits in Jaehyun’s hands, but it gives him the support he needs to manhandle Jungwoo. Jungwoo breathes heavily, murmurs a clear _Jaehyun, I can’t move_ , but that’s Jaehyun’s aim.

“Be good,” Jaehyun tells him.

And Jungwoo whispers back, “I’m good for you.”

This time, Jaehyun doesn’t fuck himself slowly. The clothes keep Jungwoo in place, and Jaehyun almost mounts him, finding the perfect angle that makes the head of his cock brush against Jungwoo’s muscles. He becomes a mess in a matter of minutes, bends over Jungwoo to muffle his moans against his shoulder blades, and his hips crash against the back of his legs desperately. Damn, Jaehyun _is_ desperate. This is the best part of fucking a boy like this: Jungwoo’s legs are tight, but not so tight that the pleasure is immediate. It’s a building up matter, in which every thrust drives Jaehyun a little bit higher, just a little bit. And when he’s halfway up the path, he wants to shoot up, but he can’t. That’s what turns him into a mess, what makes him thrust so hard that he hurts both of them against the table. But Jaehyun can’t feel anything except his pulsing dick, can’t think about anything except the image of how red Jungwoo’s thighs must be after so much friction, and that’s the final straw for him. He sinks his teeth in Jungwoo’s back to muffle his moans as he comes, hips stuttering and brushing against Jungwoo’s underwear.

Jaehyun feels wasted, so wasted that he has to extend his palms over the table and gasp for air. Laughter leaves Jungwoo’s mouth upon seeing Jaehyun’s state, but his joy doesn’t last long.

With all his body trembling from the ecstasy, Jaehyun pulls his pants up and hooks the suspenders right where they belong. Then he adjusts his shirt, makes sure that his hairstyle has survived – it hasn’t – and pins Jungwoo in place with an innocent smile.

“You had a good use tonight,” he praises him, nonchalant.

Then Jungwoo understands, the shock extending all over his expression, “Are you fucking serious?”

Jaehyun would be lying if he affirmed that he hasn’t dreamed of this; Jungwoo looks torn between jumping onto him for pleasure or to punch him in the stomach, and that’s the Jungwoo that Jaehyun is familiar with. Jaehyun was dying to return the teasing, “What do you want me to do about it? I’m done.”

Jungwoo looks lost, almost hurt, but what really hurts him is the unattended boner in his panties. “Fuck you, you can’t do this,” he mutters, yet it sounds like a childish complaint.

Getting cursed at isn’t of Jaehyun’s liking. He makes people curse for other reasons, but Jungwoo is going to need permission to do this in front of him.

Jaehyun steps closer, eyebrows raised in defy. “That’s not a way to talk to your hyung, Jungwoo.”

Jungwoo still looks pretty from up close. Even prettier than before, Jaehyun would dare to say. His lipstick is smudged, and his cheeks aren’t pink anymore, but red. Jaehyun hasn’t even touched him in the right way and he already looks wrecked, his bangs disheveled from when Jaehyun pulled his hair.

“Is that what you want?” Jungwoo asks, careful. His chest goes up and down, the tension concentrating in his lungs as Jaehyun approaches him. When Jaehyun caresses the downside of his chin, making him look up, Jungwoo croaks a tentative, “Hyung?”

“Now we’re speaking the same language,” Jaehyun confirms. The hope sparks in Jungwoo’s eyes, and his lips part as though he’s asking for a kiss, but Jaehyun has a better future for him. He inches so close that his lips brush against Jungwoo’s lips, but he doesn’t kiss him. Instead, he plays with his cutest, pouty voice, mocking Jungwoo’s usual tone, and tells him, “Say _please, hyung, let me fuck myself with your fingers_. _Please, hyung, tear my pretty lingerie apart_. Say _hyung, I bought it for you, for you only._ ”

Jungwoo isn’t breathing anymore. Jaehyun is so close that he can see how his pupils dilate, how he’s about to do anything for Jaehyun, and he swears that he’s going to fuck him right next time. But not tonight, because Jungwoo hasn’t worked for it.

“Please, hyung,” Jungwoo begins in a timid moan, and Jaehyun sends him a feline smile. “Let me fuck myself with your fingers.”

Just yet, Jaehyun mouths at him, pleased, and then he grips the neckline of the dress and rips it apart. It’s amazing how the cloth breaks without much effort, but it’s not the first time Jaehyun does this, so he’s not surprised when he manages to rip the dress down to Jungwoo’s waist.

Jungwoo looks down at his own half naked body, and then back at Jaehyun, realizing what this means. “Please, hyung, tear my pretty lingerie apart,” he continues, more confident now, more excited.

He gasps as Jaehyun hauls the dress so hard that it breaks completely, and there’s something akin to panic when he realizes that he won’t have anything to cover himself later. But Jaehyun grabs his garment one second later, and Jungwoo seems to forget everything else. “I really bought it for you, you know? Jaehyun, I really bought it for you-”

Ripping the lingerie apart is way easier than the dress, and Jungwoo groans as he falls into realization. He has made the mistake of telling Jaehyun that the lingerie was for him, and since it was for him, Jaehyun can do anything he wants with it. That’s it, he’s going to shred it to pieces.

It’s a fun game. Jungwoo whines with every ripping line on his lingerie, but he enjoys it. Jaehyun runs his hands all over his body, praises his skin and pinches his thighs just to see how they change colors; Jungwoo’s waist is amazing, and though Jaehyun already was aware of that, he’s now realizing that it’s perfect for holding Jungwoo while he rides him.

The stocking is the only thing Jaehyun leaves intact. They look too pretty on Jungwoo, and he tells him that as Jungwoo climbs up on him, both of them on the table. Jaehyun hasn’t even let Jungwoo undress him again, because he doesn’t trust himself not to fuck Jungwoo if he gets hard; he must stay faithful to his original plan, and reminds Jungwoo that they will stop if he tries something that Jaehyun didn’t give him permission for.

“My hands are all yours, babe,” Jaehyun tells him, stroking down Jungwoo’s waist. “Using yours is forbidden.”

And Jungwoo is determined to comply, doing all the work because Jaehyun wants him to work for it. He oils Jaehyun’s fingers, resting on his lap, and straddles Jaehyun. He doesn’t look at Jaehyun at first, too occupied with leading Jaehyun’s fingers into his ass, but Jaehyun does pay attention to every one of his expressions. It’s hypnotizing how Jungwoo stretches himself with Jaehyun’s fingers, soft groans every time he doesn’t measure well and goes too fast, too bold; it’s a fight against his own eagerness, because Jungwoo wishes he could go deep to Jaehyun’s knuckles right away, but he can’t.

Jaehyun has never had such a beautiful boy at his will like this, and he bathes in everything Jungwoo shows for him, in every groan and the pleas so that Jaehyun helps, in how he tries to position his fingers and grumbles when they don’t hit right where he needs. Jaehyun moves his fingers if Jungwoo begs enough, and when Jungwoo discovers that trick, Jaehyun is showered by a string of pleas. Taking pity on Jungwoo, he caresses his thigh as Jungwoo rides his fingers, but that seems to give Jungwoo an idea. Jaehyun’s fingers aren’t enough for him to come, so he guides Jaehyun’s free hand to his dick, wrapping his own hand around Jaehyun’s and around his own dick.

That does it, because several times Jungwoo pushes down, fingering himself, and then up, thrusting into Jaehyun’s hands, and it’s too much for him. He comes all over Jaehyun’s shirt, chanting his name, chanting that _he’s good, really good for him_ , and then melts on Jaehyun’s lap as though he has wasted all his strength. Jaehyun prevents him from falling off the table, circling him with his arms and pulling him closer for a kiss. Jungwoo is a mess by then, but he responds to the kiss, lazy and pliant.

“Good?” Jaehyun asks him with a smile, before planting a chaste kiss in the corner of Jungwoo’s lips.

Jungwoo sighs, joyful, “Great.”

They scramble off the table, both clumsy and with weak legs, laughing at each other. But then Jungwoo reaches for his dress and his expression shifts severely, reality hitting him: the dress is ripped in the middle, and there’s no way he can wear that without showing half of his body. Without having to give explanations, at least. Jaehyun is sure that they can lie to the managers, but they can’t let anyone else see what has happened to the dress; it’s painfully obvious.

“Shit,” Jungwoo curses under his breath. Puzzled, he turns to Jaehyun with pieces of the dress in his hand, and asks, “How do we go out now?”

Jaehyun shrugs, containing the urge of cackling. “I’m okay. I only have cum on my shirt.”

“ _Only_ ,” Jungwoo repeats, incredulous.

It’s a matter of comparisons. Jaehyun is bad, but Jungwoo is worse. He has lost all his extensions too, and Ten is going to kill him for that. “Have you seen yourself? You have to go out in stockings.”

The next thing Jaehyun knows is that the dress is in his face, but he deserves the attack. Jungwoo immediately regrets throwing the dress at him, though, because he doesn’t have anything else to cover up. “Get me some clothes. Now,” he demands, even if he’s a bad position to order Jaehyun around.

Jaehyun would have never imagined that he’d spend Halloween looking for clothes while Jungwoo prays not to get caught in lingerie. The only consolation is that they are in character, and they’re perhaps the most dedicated duo in the whole party, though Jaehyun can’t remember if Jack and Rose ever slept together.

What he’s sure of is that Jack never got cum on his shirt, but one can never be completely sure.

**Author's Note:**

> I tainted this pure, free from nsfw content account at last. And it was Jungwoo's fault. It's a tragedy.
> 
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